


Beyond, and Beyond It

by Jedibrarian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chant of Light, Elvhen, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedibrarian/pseuds/Jedibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall and Lavellan talk theology while they travel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond, and Beyond It

They stopped on the way back inland from the Coast, to fill their water bottles and give the beasts a rest. A chanter stood in a clearing upstream, adding a passage from Transfigurations to the interweave of water, wind, and birdsong while a small congregation milled about.

When they resumed their trek, Tanna took up the chant, reciting quietly to herself as she picked her way across the rutted, broken trail. 

“For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, she should see fire and go towards Light. The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death.”

She paused momentarily, searching her memory for the rest of the verse.

“For the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.” Blackwall, heretofore silent, drew up alongside her and supplied the conclusion.

“Do I have that right, Ser Warden? The Andrastean dead pass through the Beyond to the side of the Maker?”

“The better sort, at any rate.”

She frowned at that. “And what of the rest?”

“Doomed to wander the Fade, lost.”

“Huh.” One day, she would find whatever thing it was that landed on him sometimes, tightened in his chest, crushed all the resonance out of his voice and made his massive shoulders sag. She would tear it out, grind it under her heel, and spit on the remains.

They pressed on for some time without speaking.

“The People of the Dales…” he ventured finally, “where do they go when death comes?”

“‘S a funny thing. We used to not.”

He chuckled, incredulous. “Not die?”

“If the stories have it right. The Elders would sleep when they got tired and, same as how we walk the Beyond when we sleep, same as you do, they’d wake up with stories to tell about the places they’d been, the people they met. Back then, they had Falon’din and Dirthamen to break the trail for them, to keep them company along the way. Then Fen’harel locked them up. The People gathered and walked with each other, branch by stave, instead. Without the Brothers to guide them, they stumbled, maybe chased their tails some, but they kept walking.” She shrugged. “Now that we’re quickened, it’s not too different. We just can’t count on the ‘waking up’ part.”

He shuddered, tried to disguise the motion by shifting his pack.

“Is wandering so terrible? I know, I know. For your people, it’s a sentence, a punishment. They say ‘Walk the earth,’ you hear ‘my life is over.’ But the Dalish wander. It’s what we do, what we’ve done for ages.” She gestured across her forehead and cheeks, at the marks burned into her skin. _“Emma falon’Elfalon._ It’s just another path, and your friends are on it. What’s to fear?”

“I suppose that’s it, then. It’s different when you’re unsure of the way, let alone the company.” He peered down at her with a small, sad smile.

She jammed her fists into her flushing cheeks. “You’ll have had quite enough of me by then,” she protested, “if you haven’t already!”

“Never.” The speed and certainty of his reply brought her up short.

“Ser Warden,” she began when she recovered her voice. “When you pass to the side of your Maker, I will retrace your steps. I will press my ear to whatever wall is holding up the back side of the Beyond. And when I hear you bawling out the Celestial Host for the hundredth time to keep their _fenedh_ shields up, I will laugh. I will laugh and all of Heaven will hear it, because I will know that my friend is at home and at peace.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice dropped to near-inaudibility. “If He doesn’t call me?”

She snorted. “Impossible.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Couldn’t be surer. The Sisters say His discernment is perfect. If they lie? You won’t be alone for long.” She caught his hand in hers, slotted her fingertips between his scar-roughened knuckles. “Mark me, if that comes to pass, I will find you, and we will walk together. Like this.”

He turned his hand palm-to-palm with hers and interlaced their fingers. “Not so bad, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> The elvhen "Emma falon'Elfalon" is "I'm a friend of the Friend," ie Falon'din


End file.
